


"Family Is Forever"

by Coralrose10



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, celebrity fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-30 17:39:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10881720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coralrose10/pseuds/Coralrose10
Summary: The actor Ralph Fiennes, feeling stressed out and guilty over recent life events, draws comfort from his supportive and loving family.





	"Family Is Forever"

**Author's Note:**

> A work of celebrity fanfiction in the hurt-comfort category, "Family Is Forever" deals-more or less speculatively or fancifully-with events in the life of Ralph Fiennes circa 2006. The story is a blend of fact and fiction.

   **"Family Is Forever"  
**

   Ralph Fiennes placed a fifth saucer and teacup on his kitchen table and glanced up at the clock. The time was 3:58 PM. Any minute now he should be hearing the voices and the footsteps of his sister Martha and her three children–Titan, Hero, and Mercy–in the corridor outside the door of his new flat in London. The year was 2006, the month November; the whole of the year had been a trial for the 43-year-old English actor. In February, Ralph “fallen out with” Francesca Annis, his longtime (and much older) girlfriend and fellow thespian–the motivation for the split being a much-publicized dalliance of his. It was in the midst of unwanted publicity that the naturally shy actor had faced both the bitter separation and a very heavy work schedule that included the latest _Harry Potter_ film, _The Order of the Phoenix_ , in which he played Lord Voldemort. Francesca had ordered Ralph out of her house on February 7th; after living for months in hotels and kind friends’ homes, he had finally, in October, purchased his own flat, in which he lived solo. The present date was November 16th; _The Order of the Phoenix_ had “wrapped” the previous week. With nothing to do now and quite eager for company, Ralph had invited Martha and her children to tea.

This would be their first visit to Ralph’s new home. Though 9-year-old Hero and 11-year-old Titan were both “good kids” around whom Ralph (who had no children of his own) was comfortable, he found himself less able to relate to 5-year-old Mercy. As Ralph had been fond of Francesca’s teenagers-from-a-previous marriage, he felt reasonably sure that he was not a stereotypical child-hater but rather a child-free man who preferred older kids. Mercy was, in fact, an adorable and sweet girl; Ralph simply felt he would have more to say to her when she reached the age of seven or eight.

Ralph took another look at the clock, which had just struck four. He felt oddly nervous. Perhaps some music would calm him during his wait, he thought; surely it could only enhance the atmosphere. Walking to the sitting-room shelf on which he had neatly arranged his CDs, Ralph selected the soundtrack of the previous _Harry Potter_ film, _The Goblet of Fire_ , and slipped it into his player. The strains of Track #1, “The Story Continues,” flooded the flat; the “Voldemort” track would eventually come round, remembered Ralph with a smile. Titan and Hero, who loved the film, always enjoyed that track in particular. “Uncle Ralph’s theme,” they called it.

At 4:02, familiar voices were heard in the corridor. Ralph’s guests had arrived. Still somewhat nervous, he opened the door before anyone could knock, and bid his family enter his new home.

They all piled in, and within seconds the flat’s narrow foyer was filled with greetings and hugs. Quite unselfconsciously, Ralph kissed Martha on the cheek. The seven Fiennes siblings had always been close, and particularly so since their parents had died (their mother, Jennifer, in 1993 and their father, Mark, in 2004); Martha and Ralph, born nearly two years year apart, shared perhaps the strongest bond of all. As Ralph, his hands still on his younger sister’s shoulders, stood back for a look at her, he could not help noting how like him she was: the same fair hair, large eyes of bluish green, and prominent nose. Like their other sister, Sophie, Martha had achieved fame as that rarest of things, a female director. In 1999, she directed Ralph in _Onegin_ , an exquisite film of which they were both very proud.

Having talked for a minute with Martha, Hero, and Titan, Ralph shyly leaned down, pecked little Mercy on the cheek–and touched her wool coat of deep teal blue. Here, at least, was an icebreaker.  
“What a lovely coat!” he said in his characteristic, soft-spoken tone. “It matches your eyes. Did Mummy just buy it for you?”  
Silently, Mercy nodded her golden head.  
“Yes, it’s new: London Fog,” Martha elaborated. She walked slowly from the foyer to the sitting room, looking about her all the while. She took in the flat’s forest-green walls hung with paintings and photographs, and its handsome furniture.  
“Oh Ralph, it’s quite nice ” she said finally. “You always have such good taste.” Turning to her children, who were hanging back a bit, she added, “What do all of you think? Do you like Uncle Ralph’s new home?”  
Politely, both boys said that they did–very much.  
“That’s _Harry Potter_ playing on the stereo!” Hero realized aloud. “ _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_. We listen to it in the car sometimes.”  
“Yes, and I put it on specially for you!” smiled Ralph, regarding his nephew with affection. It was in fact both Hero and his brother who, as avid readers of the _Harry Potter_ books, had persuaded their uncle to take on the role of Voldemort. Lately, Hero had been showing an interest in acting, a fact which made Ralph proud.

“What about you, Mercy? How do you like Uncle Ralph’s new house?” Martha asked her daughter.Mercy hesitated; she seemed to be considering. As he waited expectantly, one eyebrow raised, Ralph wondered to himself (as he had in the past) whether she was not slightly afraid of him.  
Suddenly, the little girl seemed to make up her mind. She answered bluntly, It’s so _small_. I liked the old one better. Can we go back there, Mummy?”  
“Hush, Mercy!” Martha said quickly. “Remember what I told you,” she cautioned.  
Mercy’s limpid, turquoise gaze went from her mother to her uncle, whose fair face had blushed pink with embarrassment. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hero smirking and Titan looking shocked.  
“Can we, Uncle Ralph?” Mercy asked, her voice plaintive now.  
Drawing a deep breath, Ralph gazed down at his niece. She looked so innocent. Evidently, Martha had given her some explanation as to why he had moved–but, really, what did a small child understand of adult problems? Mercy knew nothing of affairs or betrayals. All she knew was that the familiar, pretty townhouse and the familiar, pretty lady (Francesca) both were gone, and that she missed them.

Despite his discomfort, Ralph felt his heart soften. As tenderly as he could, he tried to explain.  
“I’m afraid we can’t, my love. You see, Uncle Ralph doesn’t live there anymore. No, I’m afraid we can’t ever go back there again, Mercy, and–and perhaps someday, when you’re all grown up, you shall understand why.”  
He swallowed hard, aware that both Titan and Hero were now staring at the floor and that Martha was regarding him with an expression of empathy. “Apologize to Uncle Ralph, Mercy,” she prompted softly. “He told you he liked your new coat, didn’t he? Well, you hurt his feelings when you told him you didn’t like his new home.”  
Looking, suddenly, as terrified as if she’d done something unforgivable, Mercy burst into tears.  
“I’m sorry!” she bawled. “I didn’t mean to!”  
Feeling horribly guilty now, Ralph tried to rectify the situation. He knelt down and hugged Mercy to comfort her, kissing the top of her head. He then took out his handkerchief and gently dried her tears.  
“I know you didn’t, Mercy, and I’m not cross with you. I’m _happy_ you came to see me today! And I am–so sorry about the house...I’m very sorry to have disappointed you, my dear.”  
He was afraid that if he said one more word, he would burst into tears himself. Hero and Titan had seen him cry before, at their grandfather’s funeral; Mercy, who had been too young to attend the funeral, never had–and the last thing Ralph wanted was to frighten and confuse her further by crying now.

All of a sudden, Voldemort’s music emanated from the CD player, piercing the room’s heavy silence. Grateful beyond words for the timely distraction, Ralph began to laugh, causing the others–Mercy included–to follow suit. “That’s your cue, Uncle Ralph!” Hero announced.  
And on that note, the Fienneses all went in to tea.

***

For the meal Ralph had bought, at a bakery, a carrot cake for Martha and himself and a chocolate cake for the children. The cakes, in combination with the Earl Grey tea, were delicious; yet Martha perceived that Ralph, having turned deeply pensive, was only half enjoying his portion.  
After tea was finished, Martha took Mercy into the sitting room, so that she should not be in the way while her brothers helped Uncle Ralph wash up.

“They’re both so considerate,” thought Ralph as he watched his nephews fill a basin with hot, soapy water and carefully scrub the china he brought them from the table. “And, now that Francesca is out of my life, they are all I've got, really.” He let this fact sink in. "Yes–for the moment, at least-my own family is all that I have. Which means I should spend more time with them, and perhaps learn to be more demonstrative...”  
The line of thought was bittersweet; it made Ralph tear up. Turning partially away from his nephews, he attended to his moist eyes.  
At the basin, Hero had playfully been splashing Titan. Presently, Titan glanced up and scolded, in an elder-brother voice, “Be careful, Hero! I think you’ve hit Uncle Ralph with the washing-up water.”  
Instantly sober, Hero followed Titan’s gaze. “Uncle Ralph, I’m sorry–did I splash soap in your eyes?”  
Gladly playing along, Ralph nodded.  
“You did,” he lied. “But it’s out now.”

***

On the DVD player in the sitting room, the first _Harry Potter_ film was keeping the children occupied. The door to the bedroom was open a crack; Ralph sat on the edge of the bed, a faraway look in his eyes.  
Martha entered the room, shutting the door behind her.  
“Darling, what’s wrong?” she asked with concern.  
Ralph stared at his sister. “Darling, what’s wrong”–that was exactly what their mother used to say when one of her children seemed upset. Their beautiful, nurturing, and artistic mother, whose nickname–Jini–was the same as Mercy’s middle name. Recalling all this, Ralph burst into tears.

“Ohh...” Martha sighed feelingly. Embracing Ralph, she pleaded, “Tell me what’s wrong! Come on–you can tell your own sister!”  
An emotion Ralph could not even name–thoughts he did not even realize he’d been harboring–seemed suddenly to consume him...  
“I’ve let you all down!” he wailed.  
“Ralph, what do you mean?”  
Ralph’s voice rose hysterically. “ _All_ of you! The whole family, but especially you and Sophie.” He faltered, struggling to express his meaning. “I think...because of the way Mum raised the two of you, to be such– _strong_ women with so much self-confidence, neither of you could ever respect a man who did what I did. I cheated on Francesca–and you and Sophie side with her and judge me for it! You’ve thought less of me for months, I know it!”  
“Oh Ralph, that’s not true!” Martha cried–though with a pang of guilt as it struck her that she _had_ , privately, branded Ralph “arrogant” after news of his affair broke; she and Sophie _had_ gossiped about him. How she regretted all this now, as she listened to her brother's piteous sobs recalled how precious he really was to her!

Holding Ralph tightly and rubbing his back in circular motions to soothe him, Martha continued, “We love you just as much as we always did! Ralph, we’ve _all_ done things we’re not proud of. But it isn’t only Francesca we feel for! Life has been rough for you, too, since the split; believe me, Ralph _,_ all of us realize that! It breaks my heart to see you crying like this–and if Sophie were here, she'd feel the same way."  
Tears still falling, Ralph shook his head.  
“Of _course_ she would!” Martha crooned, rocking him. “You’re our dear brother, and we love you!” She brushed his tears away with her fingertips–then touched his cheeks and his forehead with the back of her hand. She frowned. “Ralph, have you got a thermometer? I think I should take your temperature. You feel feverish, and you’re all flushed; I don’t think you’re well. You know, there’s a lot of flu going about just now.”  
“No, no–I’m fine, Martha, thanks; I went for a flu jab last week. I’m overtired is all–and I do get feverish when I’m upset. You should have seen me in Poland during the _Schindler’s List_ shoot; on the stressful days, it would be freezing cold outside, and I’d be burning up.”  
“Then why don’t you get ready for bed, and I’ll bring you something cold to drink. Don’t worry about the children; I’ll tell them you’re tired. They’ll understand.”  
Ralph managed a smile. “Yeah. They know I was never too keen on the first couple _Potter_ films anyway.”

***

As soon as his sister had left the room, Ralph put his pajamas on and got into bed. He then fell asleep for some minutes; the next thing he knew, Titan was standing beside him, a glass of ice water in his hand.  
“Titan! I'm sorry,” said Ralph as he sat up confusedly. “I must have dropped off for a minute.”  
“Mum said I could bring you this water.”  
“Thank you.” Ralph accepted the glass, took a long sip, and set it down on his night table. “I’m not ill,” he assured his nephew, “just–overtired. _The Order of the Phoenix_ was a lot of work, and–I was under some other stress as well.”  
Sagely, Titan nodded his head.  
Ralph lowered his voice self-consciously. “You know about that, do you?”  
Again, the boy nodded. He looked down at the bed. “I’ve–heard a few things.”  
Silence followed Titan’s words. “He’s trying to spare my feelings,” noted Ralph to himself. “He’s really quite mature.”  
Aloud, he said, “A lot of it’s only gossip, Titan. But some of it is true.” Ralph’s face was flushed; he sipped some more water, then touched the glass to his face. With trepidation, he asked, “What do you think of me now?”  
Titan looked at him. “Well, I overheard what Mum said a few minutes ago. I mean–" He blushed. "I didn’t want to listen, but I was sitting closest to your door, and...”  
Ralph smiled. “It’s okay; I understand.”  
“Well, I think she’s right: everyone make mistakes. Nothing’s different between us, though. I mean, I still love you.”  
Deeply touched, Ralph hugged his nephew. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I love you, too.”  
“You’re crying!” observed Titan wonderingly, when the hug was finished. It was true; his uncle’s cheeks were wet.  
“Because I’m so happy,” explained Ralph with a tearful smile, “to have a nephew like you.” He drank some more water–thinking, as he did so, that looking at Titan was almost like seeing himself as a child. His soft voice tinged with sadness, he continued, “Since I’ve been famous, Titan, I’ve done a couple things I regret. And I never had kids–though that’s nothing to be ashamed of; not every person’s meant to be a parent. I do feel I’m a bit awkward around you and Mercy and Hero at times. But you must never think that I don’t love you–or that I’m proudest of Hero because he might become an actor. No, I love all three of you; I’m very blessed and lucky to have you in my life.”

***

Titan had just finished giving his Uncle Ralph a second hug when Martha re-entered the room. “Ralph!” she laughed. “You were meant to be asleep by now!” She looked fondly from her brother to her son. “Mercy’s fallen asleep; she and Hero are in the car. We’d better go now, Titan, and leave Uncle Ralph in peace. He needs his rest; he’s had a hard few months. Say goodbye to him, and you can ride the lift downstairs. I’ll be down as well in a minute.”

When Titan had gone, Martha lovingly tucked the covers around her brother–remembering, as she did so, how many times Ralph himself had done the same for her and her siblings during their growing-up years. Whatever his faults, Martha reflected, he had always been a good and caring brother to her–to them all. The least she could do in return was to give him the kind of patient, tender care he seemed to need...  
“Martha?” Ralph whispered, having received a goodnight kiss from his sister.  
“Yes, dear?”  
“What do you think I should do about Christmas?”  
For the Fiennes siblings, the Christmas holidays (which “officially began” with Ralph’s birthday, on December 22) had for too many years been colored by sad memories, both Jini and Mark having died between Christmas Day and New Year’s. And now Ralph had “lost” Francesca as well. Martha felt a twinge of empathy; it was more than clear to her why Ralph might be utterly dreading the season’s arrival...  
“You’ll spend it with us,” she heard herself say. “On your birthday, you and Sophie and I can all meet for tea or lunch, and have a nice talk. Then, on Christmas, you can come over and eat dinner with George and the kids and me.” George Tiffin was Martha’s longtime boyfriend, and the father of her children. “Also, we have an extra ticket for _The Nutcracker_ with the Royal Ballet.”  
“Martha...are you sure?” Ralph sounded embarrassed. “Really, you don’t have to do _all that_.”  
“Dear, I _want_ to do all that. It will be good for you and Sophie to sort things out; the kids will love seeing you on Christmas; and I know how much you love ballet. Now please, Ralph, take your rest. I’ll call you in the morning to check on you.”  
Ralph let out his breath in a long sigh. “Thanks, Martha.” Actually, he felt relieved to have specific plans for what had, since 1993, been his least favorite time of the year.

Hearing the relief in her brother’s voice, Martha suddenly felt she could understand _why_ he had “acted out” in the way that he had. Ralph’s first marriage, to his longtime girlfriend Alex Kingston (whom both Martha and Sophie had loved almost as a sister), he had rushed into with the terrible knowledge that Jini had only months left to live. When the strain of Ralph’s sudden stardom (as Amon Goeth in _Schindler’s List_ , itself an emotionally trying film to make), Alex’s own and more difficult rise to acting stardom, and bitter arguments over children (Alex desperately wanted them; Ralph did not) had finally strained the marriage virtually to the breaking point, Ralph began an affair with Francesca (who at the time was playing Gertrude to his Hamlet on Broadway), a woman 18 years his senior; eventually, Ralph left Alex for her. When Francesca ultimately proved not quite the warm, nurturing figure Ralph felt he needed, he began to look elsewhere, and...Well, Martha thought wearily, the rest of his actions did not need to be rehashed–and couldn’t exactly be excused. And yet–for the first time, perhaps–she felt able both to “see” and to sympathize with the series of heartbreaks that clearly had motivated them...

Feelings of tenderness washed over Martha; tears flooded her eyes. “Oh Ralph, you don’t have to thank me,” she quavered. “I just want you to remember that I love you, darling, and that I always will.”

 Epilogue (July 2009)

   With Martha on his arm, Ralph entered the crowded cinema lobby following the London premiere of _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_ –in which he made a cameo appearance as Voldemort, and in which Hero played the essential role of _young_ Voldemort (also known as Tom Riddle). Like _The Order of the Phoenix_ , _The Half-Blood Prince_ had proved an excellent film; needless to say, Martha was glowing with pride for her talented son, who appeared to be following in the footsteps of his uncles Joseph and Ralph.

“He reminded me so much of you on that screen, Ralph,” Martha had whispered, a little tearfully, as the closing-credits medley played. “He looked like you did at that age.”  
Ralph found himself able only to nod his agreement–a lump having formed in his throat some time ago. As he lent his sister his handkerchief so she could dry her tears, Ralph told himself that Hero had, in fact, resembled _all_ of the Fiennes siblings as children. “Mum would love to have been here tonight,” he had thought, a little sadly, as he got up to leave. His arm around Martha, Ralph walked up the aisle recalling how he had once “saved a seat for” his late mother at _Hamlet_ on Broadway over a decade ago. He cast his eyes now around the emptying cinema. Perhaps Jini _had_   “seen” Hero’s Tom Riddle in the same sense Ralph had always hoped she had “seen” his own Hamlet.

Since his ordeal of 2006, Ralph had kept fairly well. True, 2007 had begun sordidly, with a spur-of-the-moment “encounter” (Ralph cringed now to remember it and its media-circus aftermath); but by late 2008 he had won back what audience respect he'd lost, with two exceptional films, _The Duchess_ and the Oscar-winning _The Reader_. In _The Duchess_ , Ralph appeared with Mercy, who played the heroine’s small daughter. It had  touched Martha’s heart to watch the gentle way her brother looked after his little niece on the set.

The year 2009 had begun well–and then, in March, Ralph’s colleague and dear friend Natasha Richardson was killed while skiing in Canada. The tragedy had caused Ralph to draw closer than ever before to Liam Neeson, Natasha’s widower and Ralph’s former _Schindler’s List_ co-star, and Vanessa Redgrave, Natasha’s mother. Between this and his renewed closeness to his siblings and their children, Ralph was learning the true value of friends and family. Though he was certain he would never marry again, let alone have children, he was now more than satisfied that his loved ones loved him and always would.

“I’m very proud of you,” Ralph told Hero when he saw him in the lobby. He proceeded to embrace his nephew, extending his arms to include Hero’s brother and sister. He then escorted the three of them through the crowd, past the press, and out the cinema doors. At least for the time being, he wanted his niece and his nephews all to himself.

 

 

 


End file.
